Feast of Bacchus
by ADifferentKindOfFear
Summary: Summary: I would spend the rest of my eternity, wandering this earth, anchorless, and abandoned, ensuring He suffered infinitely. I would spend that same eternity paying for sins that cannot be atoned, seeking a death I could never attain.


**Name of OS:** Feast of Bacchus

"Entry for the A Different Kind of Fear contest"

**Summary:** I would spend the rest of my eternity, wandering this earth, anchorless, and abandoned, ensuring He suffered infinitely. I would spend that same eternity paying for sins that cannot be atoned, seeking a death I could never attain.

**Pairing:** Bella

**Word Count:** 6068 (not including header)

**Disclaimer:** The characters don't belong to me. This story contains dark themes, including allusion to rape (NO details or descriptions) and graphic depictions of murder and death. Fem/slash

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The Roman God Bacchus (also known to the Greeks as Dionysus) was the God of pleasure, wine and mystery. The ceremonies worshipping him were called Bacchanalia (Feast of Bacchus), and were characterized by excessive drinking, ritual dancing and orgies. He was said to inspire a state of communal religious ecstasy as the worshipers became one with the God. Initially only women were admitted, but as the cult moved into Rome, men were allowed entrance. There is little known of the ceremonies from the time when it was only women. Soon after the move to Rome and the admittance of men, the cult was outlawed by Roman authorities due to the crazed and depraved acts the worshippers were accused of performing.

Summary of information found on Wikipedia (entries: Bacchus, Dionysus and Bacchanalia) and other internet sources

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**Part I: Traditio** (The Betrayal)

I never should have come to Rome. But, it was not my decision to make, nor mine to disregard. I followed where He demanded, where He directed. Despite my reticence to move from the peaceful countrysides where we were free to worship Him in the open meadows and fields under the cover of darkness, without prying eyes. Despite my insistence that the city would only corrupt the purity of the rites, allowing outsiders to infiltrate and desecrate our sacred spaces. Despite my warnings, He decreed it necessary. He was, after all, the mighty God Bacchus, and I, merely a nymph*, a lowly water goddess whose dominion extended only as far as the stream and meadow I had abandoned to follow Him.

For millennia, for ages, for eons I lived contentedly beside my stream, bound to its perfection, existing only to protect and cherish the piece of heaven. The soft earth beneath me, fragrant grass, and shadowing trees, my home. I knew only the language of the natural world, whispered in the breeze, bubbled and swirled across the river stones, silently blooming and wilting with the changing of the seasons. I witnessed the passage of time with innocent eyes and guiltless smiles. I wanted for nothing.

Until the day He came to rest beside my banks and drink from my flowing waters. Until the day I fell in love with His regency and strength, his beautiful copper hair and fiery viridian eyes. Until the day I fell in love with the beautiful women who surrounded and worshipped Him. The minead* who gave themselves so freely to Him and for Him. Who worshipped Him with passion and abandon. Who lost themselves in His bliss, lending Him their beauty and life-force as He filled them with his divinity. I watched as they created the circle of life and rebirth, of give and take. I was seduced by the sweet ecstasy I witnessed, I longed to be part of it, I lusted after their rapture, I wanted to be touched by the divine. I wanted it all.

Without hesitation I walked away from everything I had known, turned my back on my utopia. I left, knowing that I could never return, that this place was forever lost to me. I couldn't imagine a time when it wouldn't be worth it, when I would ever wish with everything I had to return to the way things used to be. And so, I eagerly and willingly followed them, giving myself over to Him. My sacrifice and submission wasn't only for me, but for all of us. My body and obedience in exchange for His abundance of life and pleasure returned and bestowed upon all of us.

At first Rome was just like everywhere else, all the other almost uninhabited corners of the world. We performed rituals and rites, drank the wine, reveled in ecstasy; giving ourselves over to Him, allowing Him to possess us and use us, to give Him strength and allow Him to be earthbound within us. It was as it had always been. Until it wasn't. Until _they_ came and infiltrated and desecrated. _They_ weren't there for the beauty and life that drew me, that drew all of us and kept us with Him. _They_ were there for indulgence and debauchery. _They_ were there to take.

And therein laid the heart of the problem. We once lived in a perfect balance- His strength to our weakness, His take to our give, His firm and defined to our soft and malleable. We allowed Him everything we had and He returned it tenfold in his favor and love. _They_ disrupted our harmony, turning it heart-shatteringly discordant. Where once was only smooth, curved female flesh undulating and indulging in praise, we were now forced to accommodate the hard muscled bodies of the masculine. Where once we gave without thought, to each other, to one another, to Him. We were now expected to give for no other purpose than _their_ pleasure.

I loved Him and He betrayed me, allowed His greed for power to glut on cheap, ill-gotten pleasure, allowed masses of writhing bodies to commit acts of drunken perversion. Where once we partook of bodily pleasures for the sake of communing with the divine, now the rituals had become lustful orgies of pleasure-seekers, wanting only to indulge _their_ bodies in hollow, carnal ecstasy.

He didn't notice until it was too late that He was losing control of the worshippers. So consumed with expanding His ranks of devotees, He disregarded _their_ intentions. His arrogance causing our downfall. _They_ no longer communed with us to worship Him, but to worship each other, to use us to fulfill _their_ desires. _They _indulged in the basest and darkest of human behaviors, allowed breath and life to the darkest corners of the mind. _They_ stole His strength and power, used it to _their_ own ends, leaving Him weak and enervated.

And then came that last night, when it all became too much, too horrifying, to terrifying, and I could no longer remember why I stayed. When I fully realized all that I had given up for Him. I had once had everything. I had been contented to live in a Paradise of my very own, until I was tempted away and now I would give anything to go back. I watched as _they_ destroyed and desecrated. I ran. I ran from Him and what _they_ had turned Him into. If only I had been faster, quieter as I left. If only I had never come to Rome.

As I lay broken on the wayside, my body used and spirit crushed, the same thought swirled in my mind, round and round: "Where is my God now?"

Time went by, I remained motionless, invisible to passerby. I was broken and scared and alone. I contemplated my own culpability, my own guilt. If only I had never left my meadow. I had abandoned my post, turned my back on the Eden for which I had been given charge to protect. The weight of my sin was almost unbearable. I had believed He was worth it. I trusted that by following Him I was trading one good for an even greater one.

Then I was angry. Furious. Raging and rabid with the desire for revenge. He allowed this. He showed _them_ the power of pleasure, showed _them_ the source of his divinity, all because of his greed for followers in any form. He allowed himself to become impotent, ineffective and unable to control _them_. He forsook us, his peaceful, devoted retinue, long before I renounced him.

The guilt and fury seeped into my pores, infiltrated my blood, pumping through every part of my body, and formed an armor of resolve. I hardened my once soft, giving flesh, fortified my heart, steeled my mind. I would spend the rest of my eternity, wandering this earth, anchorless, and abandoned, ensuring He suffered infinitely. I would spend that same eternity paying for sins that cannot be atoned, seeking a death I could never attain.

**Part II: Dolor ** (The Suffering)

The club lights were pulsing, throwing muted illuminations into the darkness; bringing bodies from darkness into shadow before forcing them back into obscurity. The musky, earthy stench of sweat, sex and alcohol fueled the dark celebration. The revelers lost in drunken debauchery, allowing themselves to be swept away in sensual feast of carnal ecstasies. Bodies writhing to staccato beats, pressing in synchronized, rhythmic motions. Individuals indistinguishable in the undulating mass. With every perfectly timed swing of hip, thrust of pelvis, grind of ass, the horde of ignorant worshipers fueled my rage. The women's bodies on display, merchandise for sale, offering themselves up to the highest bidder. Whores, all of them. The men with their vile, filthy minds, seeking only one thing- pleasure in any form, at any cost.

I sat cloaked in the darkness of the corner of the bar, outside of the mass, away from the lights, watching. Always watching. Eyes scanning the crowd, looking for an unknown presence. I would know when I'd found the one. My eyes stayed fixed on the crowd, here an eye darkly lit in a flash of light, there a smile turned up in evil curve, a swell of glistening breast, teeth glinting in throbbing illumination. Flashes of features that let me know it was too late for the illuminated, they could not be saved; body too far immersed into the orgy, mind too saturated with perverted ecstasy, soul too blackened with sin.

My eyes rode the crowd, as my lips wrapped sensually around the small straw in my own drink. One drink was all I ever allowed myself, practicing conscientious restraint, giving the illusion of fitting in, but forcing myself apart from the wicked horde. Finally, my gaze came to rest on a single body, my eyes narrowing in scrutiny. Looking for any sign that would betray innocence: a too knowing look, a too calculated smile, a practiced sway of hip. Anything that would indicate that the soul was already damned. My lips curved in recognition, _this_ was who I was waiting for. The girl I would save tonight, the chosen one who would be brought back from the fires of hell that she was currently staring at in wide-eyed infatuation. _This_ would be the soul I liberated.

The girl was petite, limbs fragile and awkward, arms held close to her body, legs swaying slightly with nervous tension. Her two friends, both obviously regulars, tried to push the small girl towards the quivering mass, but the girl shook her head in resolute denial. In the darkness, my smile widened at the girl's refusal. She would do just fine.

Taking one last sip of my drink, I placed the glass on the bar, left the tip for the bartender and slid from my stool. It was time to make my move before the girl was drawn into the pit. I moved lithely through the crowd toward my target, my own hips moving in erotic counterpoint to the music. I knew my movements did not go unnoticed by the others in the bar. I was conscious and aware of their perusal of my body. I was irresistible, I counted on that fact, used it fully to my advantage. After two millennia of practice, I knew exactly the way they were looking at me and what they were thinking. The people and dress may have changed, but their depravity remained the same.

Their eyes would first rest on my tits, appraising and appreciative, watching the blood red fabric of my top shimmer with the slight bounce of my breasts. Then, down, curving along my sumptuous hips, thoughts of grabbing-thrusting-pulling, causing strain and ache. After that, moving up my thin, graceful neck nestled in my long curly, brown hair. Finally alighting on my face, their eyes fluttering around my facial features: full, pink lips, perfectly shaped for giving pleasure, delicate, tiny nose and wide, innocent-looking eyes. They would stop to meet my gaze, waiting to be noticed, hoping for my attention. It was with my acknowledgement of them that they would understand their mistake.

Some reptilian part of their brain, long dormant would engage, flooding their endocrine system with adrenaline. The hairs on the back of their neck would stand up, spine shiver, stomach clench, heart race. In the split second interaction where their gaze would meet mine, my hatred for everything they stood for sparked choleric and fiery in my eyes. They would know definitively, but without conscious thought: I am lethal.

There was a time that my ethereal beauty would have belied what I am, given away the danger I posed. A time when the people around me would have been hyper-aware of my true nature. Thankfully monotheistic religions and modern science has long since negated my presence; it made my goal much easier to attain. I was unstoppable, untraceable. I didn't even exist.

The Olympian Gods that at one time could have destroyed me, prohibited my revenge, had long since shriveled into nothing more than shells of their former power and glory. Left to rot in the annals of history, forgotten and disregarded as mere fairytale. All except one. He was kept barely alive every time I performed this particular rite. I would ensure that He was never completely forgotten, forever denied the blissful stasis of the Gods who were able to fade away. As long as I remembered and minimally invoked him, he would remain in a state of painful emaciation, existing just enough for me to torture, but too impotent and weak to fight back. I knew that he wished for my demise with even greater fervor than I did, because of the excruciating pain I caused him when I forced us both to remember our pasts and perform our penance. If I couldn't fade away, neither would he. If I didn't deserve to forget everything I had lost, neither did he.

I slowed my pace as I drew closer to the girl, coming to a stop several feet away. I stood watching, assessing. Feeling my gaze upon her, she lifted her head and looked around. Her eyes met mine and she smiled shyly. My answering smile was slow and calculated, a half smirk and single raised eyebrow meant to intrigue and beguile without overwhelming. This was the beginning of the seduction, the beginning of salvation, the beginning of the end. The girl would be mine for the taking.

With that in mind, I allowed the music to direct my movements, my body instinctively reacting to electronic drums and synthesizers in perfectly matched rhythm.

This part was the hardest, the illusion that I was one of _them_, as if _they_ hadn't stolen everything from me. I shuddered, remembering my naivete and innocence at once thinking any of what He offered could have been worth what I lost. I too could have been spared, not fully forgiven or absolved, but at least allowed to roam eternity with only this inescapable sense of sorrow and regret. Instead everything was tinged and tainted, burned black around the edges from the heat of the hatred and vengfulness searing through my veins. But, after that abhorrent night it was too late and my fate was settled. My body broken and used, my soul bloody and black, cast aside, a pointless sacrifice to the God of Pleasure. I shook my head, refusing to think about that. It didn't matter anyway, the fact remained it was too late for me, but this girl, this girl could still be saved. And through her salvation, I could again exact my revenge and expiate for my sins.

She was watching my body pulse in sensual, subtle movements. Translating music into an erotic invitation to touch, feel, caress. I saw the conflicted confusion written all over her face, she was wholly unable to resist me, but also unable to understand why.

After a quick glance to locate her friends, ensuring that they were sufficiently occupied, she decided she could no longer deny the magnetism pulling her across the floor towards the me, as I stood, still moving in time to the music, smirking at the inevitability of her decision. I knew the exact moment when she decided to stop questioning. The exact moment she chose her salvation and her death.

She glided gracefully across the room until she was standing hesitantly in front of me, much closer than one would normally approach a stranger. Her short raven hair contrasted exquisitely with her pale skin, her grey eyes burning with embarrassment and questions. She was the same height as I was, with a slighter frame, dressed in a short, sage green dress that bound and bolstered her body in all the right places.

In hesitant whispers, she introduced herself, "Hi, I'm Alice. I um, well, I'm sure it sounds crazy," she paused, a petal pink blush tinting her flawless skin. "But, I saw you and...god, this is so embarrassing. I've never done anything like this. I'm not even sure what _this_ is," she finished in a rush.

"Alice." I smiled at her comfortingly, knowingly, placing my hand gently on her arm. "I'm Isabella and _this_ is whatever you want it to be," I replied, my voice low and sultry. I knew from experience that if I pushed, she would skitter away. Alice swallowed thickly, staring at me with wide, uncertain eyes.

"Will you dance with me, Alice?" I raised my eyebrow in question, even though I was sure she wouldn't deny my request.

I watched as her hips began tentatively swaying in harmonized rhythm with my own. For several minutes we moved in proximity, but not touching. Alice's comfort with my presence grew and she seemed to want to move closer, but wasn't sure how. So, I extended my right arm out, lightly caressed her waist, feeling her lean ever so slightly into my touch and then I began teasingly trailing the back of my index finger from hip to ribs. Wrapping my other hand around her hip, I pulled her closer to me, until my thigh was situated lightly between her legs, pressing in ever so slightly as our bodies undulated against one another. Her arms fluttered through the air around me, finally resting on my shoulders with her hands buried in my hair and clasped behind my neck. I could already smell her arousal hanging in the air, mingling with my own scent, making my mouth water in desire, wanting nothing more than to taste her.

******Begin R/MA rating******

She began grinding in earnest against my thigh as my hand continued to trail sensual paths over her body: the side of her breasts, the nape of her neck, down her spine, and grazing her ass. Moving slowly, leaving behind goosebumps that prickled across her exposed skin. As her desire blossomed, she leaned more heavily onto me for support, her quivering legs unable to fully support her body.

The rhythm of our movements became discordant with the music, moving instead to the beat of Alice's want, speeding and slowing in accordance with her desire. Until faster and harder she pressed insistently to my unforgiving thigh, grinding herself against it, her cheeks flushing, breath speeding, eyes wide and iris fully subsumed by lust-drunk pupil. I watched in awe and want as her body began to stiffen under the overwhelming crush of her orgasm. Crashing my lips to hers just in time to catch and stifle the scream of my name, reducing it to a long moan that I felt as vibration of her breasts against my own. Her soft, full lips worked frantically with mine, our tongues warm velvet caressing and tangling as the swell of her orgasm receded, leaving her spent and trembling, in my arms.

Without much effort or persuasion from me, Alice invited me to her apartment, where she lived alone. I could tell she was still very nervous about what she was asking, but not enough to resist the pull she felt towards me. We left the club surreptitiously together after she told her friends she wasn't feeling well and was going home to rest. The cab ride was quiet, I kept just close enough to keep the electrical hum of lust running between us, but not so close as to overwhelm her or make her uncomfortable. With every block we put between us and the club, I felt calmer, more at peace; she was no longer in danger and my revenge and penance were almost at hand.

She opened her front door apprehensively, I could feel the tension in her body, both from desire and from nerves. Motioning me inside, she closed the door quickly behind us. As we stood in the entryway, her body once again almost flush with mine, she looked at me expectantly. My smile spread slowly across my face as I leaned forward lightly pressing my lips to hers, waiting for her to further the kiss.

My heartbeat sped as she pushed her body into mine, our lips working together. I was so close to where I needed to be. So close to the moment I had waited for since long before I first saw her a couple of hours ago, since long before I knew who she was. Alice's hands were clasping my hips now, holding me to her, my own hands teasing the sides of her breasts. She moaned into my open mouth when I finally ventured further in between us, using my finger nails to scrape the material of her dress over her already hard nipples.

Her desire made her bold and she began pushing my shirt up my body, my own small sounds of pleasure strengthening her courage. I walked us back toward the small hallway that I presumed would lead us to her bedroom. Our lips never ceasing their movements, fingers continually grasp-stroke-teasing, voices echoing gasps and sighs.

A door to the left was open and I caught sight of a bed. I pulled her into the room, not caring if it was the right one, only that there was a place to lay her down. We broke apart, panting slightly, and Alice stumbled as she walked over to flick on a lamp. The light in the room and the space between us seemed to have cleared her head of the lust that had clouded it. She sat heavily on the bed, fidgeting and refusing to meet my eyes. I kept my distance, allowing her a moment to work through the thoughts in her head.

Standing with my back against the wall, still shirtless, I suddenly felt His presence in the room. I couldn't hear His thoughts yet, but His hunger was palpable, voracious, feral. I smiled widely as I realized this was going to be particularly painful for Him as He was especially ravenous for her. He was like a caged animal, pacing the boundary between our realms, throwing Himself at the invisible barrier that kept him in limbo until the time I explicitly invoked him, inviting him across.

Knowing that He was now here, spurred me on to initiate the second and final part of the ritual. Moving to sit next to Alice, I turned to face her on the bed, one leg crossed in front of me, pressed into the side of her thigh. I reached over to her and began to caress her jawline with a single finger; she leaned into my touch, with a hungry sigh.

"You are stunning, Alice. I want you, so badly. I want to feel you. Please, let me," I whispered, my mouth only inches from hers.

They were the first words we had spoken since leaving the club. She stared into my eyes for a moment, trying to make a decision. I saw her jaw tighten slightly with her resolve and knew that she was now fully committed to seeing this to the end.

"Yes," was her desperate, breathy reply, before our lips pressed hungrily together.

She reached out to caress my naked breast, hesitantly and unsure at first, my own whimpers of pleasure giving her courage and she rolled my nipple lightly between her fingers. This was part of my own penance, denying myself the ecstasy I knew she was capable of giving me, denying myself the heights we could reach together. Everything would be about Alice and what I could do for her, what I would do for her. I pushed to lay her back on the bed and she lowered herself without hesitation.

Kissing along her jaw, nipping and sucking her earlobes, I moved my hands slowly down her sides until they reached the hem of her dress. Grasping it in both hands, I trailed my fists lightly up the bare skin of her body as I peeled her dress off with her assistance. If she was stunning clothed, she was absolutely otherworldly as she laid there almost naked, flushed and panting. Her lust filled grey eyes were almost black, the pupils were so dilated. Her shy smile, innocently seductive. She was now only wearing black panties that contrasted beautifully with the flawless, porcelain skin of her hips and thighs. Her breasts were small and perky, her nipples peaked and rosy with her desire.

I trailed my nose down the front of her throat, inhaling her scent deeply, memorizing it. I would be the last person to ever smell her like this, to ever touch her like this. That knowledge was deeply satisfying.

Alice was becoming frantic with need by this point; my light, insufficient touches, teasing her to distraction. Her legs were spread apart, allowing me room to move down her torso, her hips straining up in search of resistance. My lips lightly brushed over her nipple and she cried out in frustration. I smiled against her breast before opening my mouth and sucking the peak, catching it behind my teeth and flicking it repeatedly with my tongue. She moaned in relief.

My fingers sought out the warmth between her thighs, pressing into her wetness, tracing lightly up and down. She whined at the loss of my mouth on her breast, as I began to kiss down her stomach towards where my fingers were teasing her. I slipped off her panties and then paused my lips momentarily at the apex of her slit, savoring the concentrated essence of her arousal. I entered her with two of my fingers, drawing them slowly in and out of her body.

While she began her gradual assent into bliss, I knew it was time for Him to cross. I would allow Him, once more, entrance into me, offering her up to Him as a feast to a starving man. He would not resist, was wholly incapable of turning away from me, even knowing what was coming; His hunger would entice and draw him in. He would gorge and devour, glut himself on the rich fat of worship through pleasure after almost two thousand years of starvation. I knew because it was this way every time.

I knew when He could wait no longer, the hunger gnawing at His incorporeal form, driving him close to madness as He smelled the lust and want in the air, as He smelled her innocence. I silently willed him to enter me, beckoned him across the divide. "Bacchus, come. Enter. I open myself to you."

I felt the icy tingle of his spirit slithering up my spine, the cold in the pit of my stomach as he entered my mind and took up residence in the corner. Once upon a time he would have overtaken me, I would have become subservient in my own body, secondary to his desire and wants. My spirit would have hovered, lying languidly in warm, enraptured nothingness, aware of his actions through my body, but unable and unwilling to deny him. No longer.

"Do you feel her?" I asked Him in my mind, tauntingly, as he cowered inside my body, too weak to direct my movements, a passive voyeur, unable to do anything more than feel and remember. "Do you feel her supple curves, the nip of her waist, the flare of her hip? Do you feel how soft and inviting her breasts are? Can you taste her skin, so sweet and musky? Can you smell her desire?"

By now, Alice's hips were steadily riding my fingers as I continued to push them in, curling them forward inside her and stroking firmly before I slid them back out again. I leaned down and began sucking on her clit, the flavor of her earthy, tart essence bursting against my tongue. Her moans echoing through the small room, the air heavy with the smell of sex. She was so close, I was working her higher and harder with my mouth and hands, determined for her to spin apart spectacularly, wanting nothing more than for these last memories to be of bliss. Finally, she let go, her high-pitched, animalistic moan deafening, as she screamed my name. Her body pulsed around my fingers and her back arched off the bed as all her muscles contracted together in bittersweet rapture.

I watched in awe and envy as she came, her mind fully open and receptive as it was flooded with pleasure. I remembered that, the symphony of feelings lighting up every nerve ending in your body as wave after wave of sheer euphoria crashed over you, drowning you in ecstasy. I looked on, knowing that I would never again feel that, knew that my self-denial was the very least I could do to atone for abandoning my paradise. The only consolation I had was that I would save Alice from my fate, like I had saved all those before her, she would never know the pain and suffering I was forced, deservedly, to endure. She would be spared and granted the ultimate peace that was denied me. Death.

I knew he was watching her, also; practically salivating at the prospect of feeding from her, waiting for the perfect moment, when she was at her peak, for His spirit to enter her body. I felt Him gather the minuscule strength He had garnered from our actions and allow part of Himself to flow into her body, prepared to gorge himself on her ecstasy. Even knowing I would never allow that to happen, He had no choice but to try. His very nature demanded he seek power where ever, at whatever cost. I had once been a victim of that instinct, and he was now prey to it as well. I smiled at the small void I felt when He allowed part of Himself to leave me and enter into her.

As she laid there, spent and sated, the end was upon us. He knew what was coming and I felt his futile attempts at resistance, his silent begging. He couldn't leave my body until he had absorbed every last drop of my pleasure. He would be forced from her body along with her spirit, in an explosion of pain as the two parts of Him were wrenched from one another, like a limb being torn from a body. One part would remain here, with me, the other would be forcibly returned to His rightful realm. I was almost giddy with the thought of his agony, it didn't matter that he had felt this before or that he would feel it over and over for all of eternity. My only concern was that he was tormented and tortured in this moment.

Even in His weakened state, the effect he had on Alice was noticeable. She was laying prostrate in the middle of the bed, still swimming in the after effects of her orgasm, the bliss heightened and deepened by His presence. I used her momentary incoherency to ready what I would need to commit this act of compassion.

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a ribbon: several inches wide, midnight black, and made of cool, tantalizing satin. Straddling her waist to immobilize her body, I laid the ribbon across her neck before reaching behind her head. After fanning her hair away from the nape, I grasped both ends of the material, twisting it around my hand and pulling it firmly against her throat.

The feeling of the ribbon uncomfortably circling her neck, making swallowing difficult, pulled Alice from her euphoria. She realized at almost that exact same moment that my body was on top of her, holding her limbs tightly against her body and the bed. She tried in vain to loosen herself, to wiggle free of my grasp.

"Isabella?" Alice asked quietly, unable to do more than whisper, her voice dripping with fear, her body still struggling for freedom.

"Shhh, it's okay, Alice. Trust me," I spoke calmly to her, trying to reassure her. I knew from past experiences that they never understood while it was happening, that it was necessary and for the best. They never saw this for the gift that it was.

"Please, please, don't," she whispered again, tears already flowing down her cheeks, choking sounds punctuating her crying.

My hand pulled tighter on the black ribbon; her relentless sobs were reduced to high pitched keening as her larynx was steadily restricted. I admired the contrast of ebony silk against the bright red ligature mark, fading to pale pink around the edges and finally creamy white.

"You are so fucking beautiful, Alice. Too beautiful to be tainted."

I felt her struggle harder beneath her, attempting to use her pelvis to buck me off. I tightened my legs around her arms, holding them tighter to her body and pushed my ass harder against her hips and thighs to hold her lower body still.

"They want you, you know. The bitches who tried to throw you into the pits tonight, you were going to be just another sacrifice to them. I'll save you though. Don't fight me, I'm here to save you," I whispered, imploring her to understand.

As Alice begged for her life, the only word she could form with the restricted motion of her vocal chords was a strangled "Please". I pulled the ribbon ever tighter, not wanting to hurt her more than necessary and watched as the light in her eyes began to grow fuzzy and faint. In a final act of defiance she gathered the last of her strength, twisting her body, shoving upwards, turning her wrists at painful angles inward, gouging uselessly at my jean covered thigh.

"Oh Alice, sweet girl, calm down. Trust me, it's better this way. You'll thank me later when you realize what I've spared you." I spoke quietly, calmly, whispering into Alice's ear, as if she were a small child, awoken by a nightmare. I wanted her to see that I would protect her from all that could hurt her.

I tightened my hold just a bit more, the ribbon biting into the flesh of my hand with the force that it took to hold it taut. My fingernails digging into her neck as I held the ribbon ever tighter. Alice struggled for her final breath, she had ceased fighting me, her body focused solely on it's futile attempts to take in oxygen and move it to her brain. No noise escaped her, the only sound in the room was my panting breath. Alice's grey eyes were wide open, staring into mine, a look of shock on her face as she recognized, with absolute certainty, that she was dying.

I felt Him clawing inside me, his attempts to stop me, completely useless and ineffectual. His silent professions of remorse, falling on my deaf ears. He could never be sorry enough for what he had done, for what he stole from me. Never.

A slow smile spread across my face as I watched the life slowly draining from Alice's small body. I watched as her eyes rolled back into her head. Watched as the previously pale, creamy skin turned mottled blue and red. Watched as a slow, narrow trickle of blood curved lazily from the corner of Alice's mouth, caressing her lower jaw before finally seeping into the black ribbon.

A feeling of peace settled into my chest and I sighed contentedly. Alice was safe and His screams of tortured agony echoed through my head and across the divide of the realms. This wasn't absolution of my sins, no. But it was close.

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nymph- a minor nature goddess, usually bound to a particular landmark or body of water.

minead- the female worshippers of Bacchus/Dionysus


End file.
